


Merthur Party 2013

by nomical



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic Reveal, Pre-Slash, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:12:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomical/pseuds/nomical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My contribution to Team Red is going to be seven little ficlets posted here as chapters. Some will be slashier than others. Based off the following prompts: </p><p>1 Day Prompt: “The Prince and The Servant” (set mid series one)<br/>2 Day Prompt: “The Prat and The Idiot” (set mid series three)<br/>3 Day Prompt: “The Once and Future King and The Greatest Sorcerer” (set mid series four)<br/>4 Day Prompt: “Arthur and Merlin” (set mid series five)<br/>5 Day Prompt: “Not The End” (set during 5.13)<br/>6 Day Prompt: “Just the Beginning” (set post 5.13 to the present day)<br/>7 Day Prompt: “The Golden Age” (set 2013)</p><p>Each chapter can be read as a standalone but they are all written in the same universe and can also be read as one long fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prince and The Servant

"Do try and keep up Merlin," yelled Arthur over howling wind.

"Sorry, what was that?" Merlin yelled back, pulling his coat tighter around himself. He looked up but Arthur had disappeared in a swirl of white. Snow blew in all directions, stinging his eyes and making it impossible to see. Merlin craned his neck and turned on the spot, desperately trying to see a flash of red or yellow. Suddenly, he was being turned around and was face to face with Arthur.

"I said," Arthur hauled him in close by the front of his jacket, his breath temporarily warming Merlin's cold cheeks, "do try to keep up." There was a flash of concern in his eyes that was swiftly replaced by his usual look of distain. "Honestly Merlin, one would think you'd be able to hear better with ears that large."

"Oh, I'm sorry I can't hear you over the sound of the massive blizzard we're stuck in!" Merlin pulled a face at him but Arthur only rolled his eyes and tugged him forwards.

"Come on, there's a cave not far from here. We can take shelter there until the storm blows over."

They trudged forwards slowly, Arthur not loosening his grip, despite Merlin's splutters and protests. Either Arthur had excellent eyesight or he really did know the land as well as he claimed, as the small cave wasn't more than fifty paces ahead of them. Arthur pushed Merlin bodily into the cave and he fell to floor with a squawk.

"Watch it!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "How many months will it take you to realise you can't address me like that Merlin?"

"As many as it takes for you to stop treating me like a piece of property." Merlin pulled himself into a sitting position and brushed the dirt off his jacket.

"I'm the prince and you’re the servant Merlin. That basically means I can treat you however I want," Arthur smirked at him and sat down at the entrance of the cave.

Merlin folded his arms. "Maybe I'll quit."

"You can't quit, my father gifted you the position. It's a great honour for a lowly country boy like you to even have a place in the royal household."

"Maybe I don't want it anymore. Maybe I realised the honour isn't worth all the hassle of the job." Merlin raised his eyebrows and smiled but Arthur didn't smile back.

"You can't leave. I forbid it."

"You forbid it? It's a job. I'm not a slave, I'm free to leave when I want."

Arthur didn't reply but his scowl grew deeper.

"Relax Arthur, I'm not going to up and quit now. I wouldn't get very far in this weather." Merlin stretched out and tried to find a bit of cave that didn't feel like he was lying on rock. He had just closed his eyes when Arthur spoke softly.

"I'm not really that awful to work for, am I?"

Merlin cracked an eye open to see Arthur still frowning and picking idly at a stray thread on his cloak.

"Seriously?"

Arthur continued fussing with his cloak and refused to meet Merlin's gaze.

Merlin propped himself up on his side. "You're not awful Arthur, but you certainly don't make things easy either."

"What do you mean?"

"Hmmm, let's think about my list of weekly duties. Doing your laundry, fetching your meals, drawing your baths, walking your dogs, polishing your armour, mending your clothes, cleaning your quarters, fetching your wood, sharpening your swords, refilling your inkwells, dressing you, mucking out your stables. I mean, you do realise you have an entire castle full of servants that are specifically assigned to these jobs. The stable hands are supposed to be the ones mucking out the stable. And lord only knows why you don't have a squire for your armor needs." Merlin glanced up from his tirade to see Arthur looking slightly pink in the pale light.

"I didn't want you to get bored," he muttered.

"Bored? Arthur, you realise I came to Camelot to be Gaius' apprentice, right? I have a weekly list yards long that I have to complete for him too. I don't think you ever have to worry about me getting bored."

"I wasn't worried," Arthur scoffed. "I just wanted to make you look useful in front of my father. If he saw a team of servants attending to me he might reconsider your position. You do have a tendency to get yourself noticed by him for all the wrong reasons."

"I didn't know you cared so much sire," Merlin beamed at him.

"Shut up Merlin."


	2. The Prat and The Idiot

' _Enough is enough_ ,' thought Merlin, ' _the prat has gone too far this time_.' He burst into Arthur's chambers, brandishing the bundle in front of him like a sword.

"Arthur, what the hell is this?"

Arthur looked up from his desk and tossed his quill casually on the desk. _Too casually_.

"Whatever do you mean Merlin?" He blinked innocently and smiled sweetly. A smile that Merlin would normally make Merlin a little weak at the knees. Not today though. Today he was on a mission.

"I've just had a special delivery from one of the wardrobe matrons, only to open it and find these." He waved the bundle again and its contents shook out onto the floor.

Arthur's façade slipped for a moment as he tried not to laugh. "It's ah," he coughed, "tradition Merlin. I know we've been away on state business for the last couple of years at this time, but surely you celebrated the winter solstice in Ealdor."

"Yes, with a feast and games and dance. Not with poncy outfits! Honestly Arthur, did you even look at these before you sent them? There's ruffles on them!" He flicked at one of the offending ruffles irritably and watched it slowly settle itself back into place with a frown.

"Of course I looked at it," said Arthur, all attempts to hide his glee abandoned. "I had them made specially for you."

"Well I am not wearing them," Merlin exclaimed vehemently. Just to show how much he was not wearing them, he dropped the rest of the outfit and gave it a kick for good measure.

"Come now Merlin, that's no way to treat a gift. I paid a lot of money for that ensemble." They looked down at the bundle in tandem and Merlin sighed.

It was a truly horrific outfit. The deep plum colour was nice enough if one cared about that sort of thing, but that was really the best that could be said for it. The jacket was composed of far too many ruffles and collars, and the sleeves trailed down long past the waistline like the Lady Morgana's dresses. The trousers were short and poofy and there was a pair of what Merlin feared were ladies hosiery to be worn under it. But the worst part hands down was the hat. Arthur had truly outdone himself this time. It was much like the first daft hat Arthur had put Merlin in years ago, but this one looked like it had swallowed a growth potion as it had several miniature versions of itself perched in wobbly layers on top. Each level had a feather poking out of the top which stuck out in a different direction, getting obnoxiously larger on each descending layer. If Merlin was to wear this outfit, the best he could hope for was for people to think he was going to a costume party. At worst, he'd look like a deranged bird.

He looked up to see Arthur looking at him with nothing less than joy, probably waiting for him to go off again. For some reason that Merlin couldn't fathom, Arthur seemed to delight in winding him up and watching him blow up. Well, he refused to give Arthur the satisfaction of knowing he'd won yet again.

"Fine. Fine, I'll wear it then," he jammed the hat on his head and crossed his arms. "But be prepared for me to look like an idiot. I don't know any of these town dances and people are liable to get hurt with all these feathers sticking out."

"Well, we can't have that now, can we." It wasn't a question but it shook Merlin out of his funk enough to respond.

"We can't?"

"No," Arthur stood up and crossed the room slowly. "During this particular feast, the traditional Camelot colours are forgone and the servants all wear blue to honour the oncoming winter months. Only members of the royal family and the court get to wear purple." He came to a stop directly in front of Merlin who tried very hard not to take a step backwards and lose any ground. "It's a great honour for me to gift you with purple Merlin. We can't have you disgracing the colour."

"So I don't have to wear it?" He tried to keep his voice steady but it was difficult with Arthur standing close enough that he he could feel the heat from his body warming his front.

"Oh you still have to wear it," Arthur smirked, "but I'm going to teach you how to dance."

"What?" Against his will, Merlin took a step backwards and stumbled a little over the remains of the outfit scattered on the floor. Arthur used Merlin's flailing as an opportunity to close the gap between them and actually catch hold of Merlin before he fell like he was a wilting maiden.

"It's honestly a miracle that you've lived this long."

"Don't be a prat. And let go of me!" Merlin struggled but Arthur merely hauled him back on his feet and readjusted their bodies so that they were in a couples hold.

"Alright, now for the first few rotations, I'll lead. Depending on how fast you pick up on the steps, you can take over after a few turns around the room."

"You're serious about this?" Merlin's voice reached an embarrassingly high octave at the end of his question. Arthur's only response was to quirk and eyebrow and press his hand more firmly to the small of Merlin's back.

Merlin's breath caught as Arthur began to spin them around the room. Arthur, annoyingly enough, turned out to be a very good dancer. And not a half-bad teacher either, compared to his usual conduct during training. It wasn't too complex of a pattern, and Merlin was fairly sure he could remember it if it weren't for the fact that it was Arthur teaching him. Arthur, who's hair was starting to curl from sweat at the nape of his neck and who smelled annoyingly good for a man who had spent most of the morning on the training field.

"Think you've got it yet?" Arthur asked moments later, snapping Merlin back to reality.

"Erm, sure," he grinned at Arthur before switching his hands so that his left was sitting on the small of Arthur's back. His movements were clumsy at first but within a few minutes he grew confident enough with the pattern that he was able to look up from watching his feet. This proved to be a mistake as he looked up directly into Arthur's eyes.

"Very good Merlin, you might not be a complete idiot after all."

Of course, this was the moment Arthur decided to eliminate the tiny amount of space left between him and pushed his chest against Merlin's. Beyond the pulse of excitement that rushed through him from the point of contact, this temporarily off-balanced Merlin and they fell backwards onto the floor in a heap. Lying in a tangle of limbs on the hard concrete, Merlin blamed Arthur completely for their current situation. Him and his big blue eyes and his pectorals and his high cheekbones. It was enough to drive a person mad, never mind throwing dancing into the mix.

"You know," said Arthur from somewhere to his right, "that actually went better than expected."

"Oh?"

"I expected you to trip the second you took the lead. Well done for making it this far."

"Really? Thank you, I think."

Arthur rose to his feet and looked down on Merlin. "Well come on then, up and at 'em."

"What?" You want to dance _again_?" asked Merlin, horrified.

"Practice makes perfect Merlin."


	3. The Once and Future King and The Greatest Sorcerer

It starts the same way all the debacles do. Arthur led his knights through a shrine the druids had erected in honour of Erce. He didn't do it with malice but he still disturbed the ground reserved for the goddess, and because of the king's mistake, Camelot began to suffer. The rivers dried up and the rain refused to fall. On the fifth day of the draught, Arthur was left with no choice but to accept Gaius' explanation for the events and snuck out of the castle late that night to make amends with Erce. He had been the one to propose the shortcut and he was the one who had ignored Merlin's warnings. He alone was the one who could fix it. Of course he wasn't truly alone.

***

Arthur crested the hill slowly, the lush forest air comforting on his dry skin. He sighed as he entered into the clearing and pulled back his hood. Now that he knew what to look for, it was quite obvious that glade was sacred. A ring of ash and hawthorn trees shielded the spot from the outside world. Little pots of herbs and incense filled holes in the trees and fallen logs. A small boulder served as the altar where bowls of juniper berries and oak leaves sat.

' _How can I still be so blind, after all these years?_ ' It was a question that he knew the answer to only too well. His father may have passed but his influence still lingered. ' _Well, not for much longer_.' Dropping to his knees, Arthur raised his head and spoke.

"To the owner of this land, I am sorry for trespassing. I did not know to whom it belonged and I have come to beg your forgiveness. My people have done nothing wrong and do not deserve to die for my rash actions." He waited, holding his breath for any sign of movement. His patience was rewarded by a figure stepping out from behind a tree to his left.

"Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, come to pay his respects at last." The speaker was a woman some years older than him but strikingly beautiful. She wore a leather jerkin over her robes which was embossed with a fine metal. She stalked toward him with a look of distain on her face, the light from her golden eyes bouncing off her dark skin. She came to a halt in front of him and frowned. "You're late."

"I am sorry, my lady. I am still attempting to re-learn the ways of the druids. Despite our peace treaty, our two cultures are still very much separate."

"Ah, but did I not hear your servant warn you not to cross through my grounds?"

"It is rare that Merlin knows what he's talking about my lady. Most days I find myself asking what it is I keep him around for. I do not know how he knew this was a shrine."

She raised her eyebrows at that. "Let's ask him, shall we?" She clicked her fingers and something fell to the ground with a thump behind him.

Knowing what he would see, Arthur allowed himself a moment to screw up his face and take in a deep breath before standing up and turning around.

"Hello Merlin, fancy seeing you here. I could have sworn I dismissed you early tonight."

"It's a good thing you did," Merlin pulled himself into a sitting position and began brushing dirt off his jacket. "Otherwise I would have missed you sneaking off like some kind of, of-"

"Sneak?" Arthur suggested drily.

"Don't be a prat. We're in the presence of a goddess."

Arthur rolled his eyes and held out a hand to Merlin, hauling him to his feet. "I wouldn't have to be a prat if you had of done what I'd asked and stayed home."

"Your antics bore me. I grow weary of you." They turned in tandem to see Erce leaning against a tree with her arms crossed.

"I do apologize my lady," said Arthur, dropping to his knees once more. Merlin remained standing like the peasant he was until Arthur elbowed him in the kneecap. Merlin managed not to yell but dropped to his knees beside Arthur with a hiss.

"Your apologies mean nothing to me. You flouted my authority in this forest and you only came to repent when I damaged your city. It will take much more than an apology to fix your wrongs."

"What will it take? Whatever price, I am willing to pay it for my people." Beside him, Merlin let out an outraged squawk.

"Arthur no, the people need you," he turned to face Erce. "Whatever the price, I will pay it for him."

"What is your obsession with dying for me Merlin? I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm the _king_ , I'm the one with a duty to the _kingdom_. Only one of us is dying today and it isn't you."

"Perhaps neither of you have to die," Erce interjected. They turned to look at her once more.

"Yes, let's take that option, I like the sound of it much better," said Merlin.

Erce narrowed her eyes and smiled. "Do not be so hasty Emrys. You may not like the alternative."

Merlin's eyes grew wide as Arthur turned to look at him. "Emrys?" he grimaced.

"It's a long story," Merlin muttered.

"Then it will have to wait for another day," Arthur turned to face Erce. "What must we do?"

She gave him a considering look, as if sizing him up. "Let us play a game of truths. Both of you must tell me a secret. A secret that you have never told each other, and I will consider your debt paid."

"Tell you a secret?" Merlin frowned. "That's all we have to do?"

Erce's smile grew wider but it did nothing to put Arthur at ease. "Not entirely. Once you tell me your secret, it is mine to keep. You will have no memory of this night, nor will you have any memory of the secret itself."

Arthur felt Merlin stiffen beside him. ' _This is it then_ ,' he thought. ' _The day we stop pretending and the lies end_.' He smiled ruefully at the fact that it was to come out like this. Not on the battlefield, but here in the peace of the forest. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Merlin shuffle to face him. He looked up and met Merlin's gaze head-on.

Merlin licked his lips before he spoke. "I'll do it Arthur. I-," his words caught in his throat and tears weld up rapidly. "I never thought it would end this way." Merlin gave him a sad smile before opening his mouth once more. "I'm a sorcerer. I have magic."

"I know."

Merlin's gawked at him in a way that at any other time would be funny. "You know? What do you mean you know?"

Arthur tried to swallow back his tears but the look of betrayal and confusion on Merlin's face was too much. "That's my secret Merlin. I've known you were a sorcerer for years."

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I was a coward." Tears ran freely down both their cheeks. "I knew that you would protect the kingdom above all else but I didn't know how to lift the ban on magic and give you the credit you deserve without making it look like you had been controlling me all those years. So I did the next best thing."

"What? By condemning me to a lifetime of servitude? By making me hide who I am every minute of every day?" Merlin bit out.

"By keeping you safe," Arthur replied softly. "I've thought about this for years Merlin. I couldn't see any way out that wouldn't end with you on the pyre and I'd rather die than see that come to pass. I'm selfish and I couldn- I can't bear to lose you." The look of pure astonishment on Merlin's face was too much for Arthur so he turned back to Erce.

"There. I believe that fulfils the terms of your game," he said coldly. "Now please, let the water return to Camelot and spare my people from the drought."

"Not quite. Your secret fulfills the bargain, and quite deliciously too," she turned to frown at Merlin. "Yours however, does not meet my needs. His I can banish from his mind quite easily. But I cannot take away your knowledge of your magic. For your magic is woven in to your very being in a way that is impossible to separate which makes your secret is only a half. You must give me another half to complete your end of the deal."

"That's not fair, I don't have anything else to give," Merlin replied, panicked.

"Then your life will suffice."

"You can't do this, we made a deal!"

"What if I give you the other half?" Arthur interjected.

Merlin turned to face him. "Arthur no, there's got to be another way, I can't ask you to give anything more for me."

"I'm your king Merlin, I don't need your permission or your approval. Besides," he glanced sideways at Erce, "this one will more than clear our debt."

"Arthur-."

Arthur spoke over top of him. "I said before that I was selfish. I was selfish on behalf of Camelot for wanting to keep you and your magic in service to the kingdom. I was selfish because I didn't want to lose my best friend and advisor to the pyre. But I was also selfish because I didn't want to lose the man I loved over something he was born with."

Merlin sucked in a breath. "What did you say?"

"I said I love you Merlin." Arthur rolled his eyes and let out a short laugh. "Gods help me but I do love you, big ears, inane prattle, magic and all."

Merlin looked at him softly. "Arthur," he started.

"Is that enough for you this time?" Arthur asked Erce bitterly.

"It is another half secret, but as that was all that was required it will do," she sighed.

"What do you mean 'another half secret'? That was my heart I just gave you!"

"Yes it was," she scowled. "Your love for Emrys is as integral to you as his magic is to him. I can take away the knowledge that you revealed your secret, but I doubt any power in this world is strong enough to make you forget your love." She looked vaguely disgusted by that thought but Arthur only had eyes for Merlin who was looking at him with a peculiar expression.

"Am I right in thinking that when we wake up we'll have no memory of this night?" asked Merlin.

"Correct. Nor will Arthur remember that you are a sorcerer."

Merlin flinched a little at her last words and Arthur raised his hand to cup Merlin's cheek.

"It's alright Merlin, I'd trade forgetting with getting to do this any day." He shuffled forwards on his knees and closed the distance between them. Merlin barely had time to gasp before Arthur closed his eyes and kissed him chastely. As he started to pull away Merlin all but tackled him to the forest floor and continued the kiss in a filthy open mouthed manner. Arthur groaned into it and buried his fingers in Merlin's hair. Had Erce not cleared her throat, Arthur thought the kiss would have continued indefinitely.

"You are being boring again. Untangle yourselves so I can send you to sleep."

Merlin smiled down at him before pressing one last kiss to Arthur's lips. "I'm sad we won't remember any of this.

"Don't worry, it took seven years for that to happen. Even if my mind forgets, my body will remember. And I don't think it will let me be that much of a coward again." Arthur shifted onto his side so they were facing each other. Merlin grinned and took his hand, entwining their fingers tightly.

"Thank you, for everything."

"It's you I should be thanking Merlin. I can't begin to imagine all the things you've done for the kingdom."

Merlin raised their joined hands to his mouth and kissed the back of Arthur's. "One day, we'll sit down and talk about it all. I promise."

"Say farewell to your Emrys, Arthur."

"He's not my Emrys," Arthur grumbled. "He's my Merlin, and I much prefer him that way."

"Goodnight, my king."

"Goodnight, my sorcerer."

And then there was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet helps with my lingering headcanon that in series 5 Arthur knew about the magic. Up until the finale, I was convinced that it would be Arthur who breached the magic reveal. It helps me justify why Arthur was so sensitive to magic in the last series and still completely oblivious about Merlin. It's also helped me to organise my thoughts for a longer fic along the same line of thinking.
> 
> I wrote the character of the goddess as Erce, a deity mentioned in Anglo-Saxon mythology. The etymology is as follows: Attested in the 11th-century Æcerbot ("field-remedy") charm. The triple invocation erce, erce, erce is compared to the Latin sanctus, sanctus, sactus, and interpreted as derived from a vocative form of eorcnan "true, genuine; holy", or a proper name Erce, from an earlier *Eorce for a fertility goddess addressed as "mother of earth". [(Source)](http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/erce)


	4. Arthur and Merlin

Mordred pulled at the cloak around his shoulders irritably. He had been a knight for nearly a year, yet he still could not master walking without his cloak trying to strangle him. He reached the top of the stairs and pulled it off over his head, throwing it into a corner with more force than necessary.

"I'd be careful with that if I were you. Edith cares nothing for niceties of station and she'll chew your head off if she has to make you a new one."

"My lady," Mordred dropped into a bow, embarrassed to be seen throwing a temper tantrum in front of the queen. "Are you not enjoying the feast?"

"I don't think it's your place to question my actions," she replied stone faced. They stayed silent for all of three seconds before Guinevere broke the ice by laughing, Mordred following quick behind her.

"Come," she said, extending her hand. "It's silly to stand on ceremony on a night of frivolity. Come admire the view with me." He took her hand and she pulled him to his feet before turning back to the balcony and taking a sip from her goblet. 

Beneath them, the feast was in full swing. The tables were loaded with every dish Camelot had to offer and servants carried jugs of the finest wines and ales. In the center of the hall, those that had finished dining were engaged in dancing or watching a troupe of travelling minstrels perform. It was a whirl of colour and sound that made Mordred dizzy just watching it.

"I am enjoying the feast by the way," Guinevere leaned into him conspiratorially. "But one of the many advantages of being Queen is that you are allowed to slip away and have some time to yourself."

Mordred scanned the hall and quickly found Arthur at the high table, deep in conversation with Leon and holding his glass for Merlin to refill. "It must be better to be queen than king. It seems Arthur doesn't get to share in your benefits."

Guinevere frowned a little at that and Mordred blushed, fumbling over his words as he tried to correct his rudeness. "I'm sorry my lady, I should not have been so forward as to call the King by name, I-"

She raised a hand to silence him. "It's quite alright Mordred. It took me years to adjust to life at court. When it's just us, you may speak however you feel most comfortable."

"Thank you my lady."

"Call me Gwen," she grinned.

Mordred smiled and let his gaze drift back towards the high table where Arthur now had Merlin by the neckerchief and was explaining something in a very animated manner. He looked sideways at Gwen to see her frowning again.

"If it wasn't my impropriety, what is it that's troubling you my la- Gwen?"

"Oh, nothing of importance. Nothing new anyways." She smiled ruefully but kept her eyes on the feast below. He followed her gaze back to the high table. Arthur and Merlin were separated now but even at that distance, Mordred could see the intensity Merlin was staring at Arthur with.

"You see Mordred, while there are several benefits to being Queen, there are also certain drawbacks." 

Mordred couldn't tell whether he should say something or stay silent but he was saved from making a decision when Gwen continued to speak.

"One of the disadvantages is that I never get to see Arthur as a whole."

"A whole?"

"Yes." She raised a thumb to her mouth and ran the nail between her two front teeth in a move that looked practiced subconsciously. "I get to see the great king Arthur has grown into in court. I get to see the fine and experienced rider when we take trips together. I get to see the truly awful romancer on our anniversary. But I never get to see all of him at once. Not the way others, well, _other_ , does." She took another sip from her goblet and Mordred felt awkward, as if he was intruding on Gwen's private monologue, brought out by the wine.

"My lady, you are his Queen, you are his everything," he tried.

"I thought I could be. Once. A long time ago. Now I see he had everything he ever needed all along." 

She fell silent as they watched Elyan wave Merlin over and pull out a chair for him. Merlin had barely been seated for a second when Arthur motioned him back over imperiously.

"Arthur and Merlin. Merlin and Arthur," she gave a small sigh. "You know, I fancied Merlin before I fancied Arthur."

"What?"

"Mmm." She took a small sip before continuing. "Almost from his first day in Camelot. There was once a time I even thought we might get married." She burst out in a laughter that made Mordred feel uneasy. "See it's funny. Because I thought I would marry the one, when I actually married the other, and in the end they gave their hearts to each other. Someone should write an epic about us all, it would make for very good entertainment."

They looked back to the high table in unison. Merlin was being dragged onto the dance floor by Gwaine, Arthur's eyes following their progress moodily.

"I'm happy for them though," Gwen said suddenly. "I'm happy that Arthur has what he needs, even if I can't be the one to give it to him."

Mordred blushed. "You can't mean-"

"Oh I don't know. Neither of them have ever said anything either way. But when Arthur shares my bed it is just for sleeping. There's never any passion between us anymore, and frankly I can't remember if there was every really any in the first place." She brought the goblet to her lips once more and frowned when no liquid came out.

Mordred still felt a sense of duty to his king, even if Gwen's words were confirming what he had suspected since he had returned to Camelot. "I cannot believe that Arthur would betray you like that my lady. He is noble to a fault and the most decent man I've ever met."

"I sometimes hope he has," Gwen propped her arms up on the balcony and cradled her head. "It's not healthy to deny oneself the love of another. It's nearly been ten years, one of them must have cracked by now."

"Guinevere, you are far more patient a wife than Arthur deserves," said Mordred earnestly.

"No. I've just had a long time to come to peace with it."

They watched the scene below them play out in silence. Arthur had removed himself from the high table and was now dragging Merlin bodily off the dance floor. Merlin appeared to be putting up a fight but Arthur had the upper hand and pushed Merlin through an open door, slamming it behind them.

"I should return to our guests. It would be rude for both of us to neglect them tonight. And I'm also out of wine." She picked up her goblet and walked past Mordred back towards the staircase, waltzing a little and humming a tune.

"Allow me to accompany you my lady."

She smiled wistfully at him. "It's alright Sir Mordred. I've been on my own for many years now. I think I can handle a few stairs."


	5. Not The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend [masterbasterd](http://masterbasterd.tumblr.com/). I wrote this almost a year ago after we spent half the night freaking out over how we were sure Arthur knew about the magic. The prompt for Day 5 was the perfect excuse to finish it. Hope you enjoy m'dear.

They had been close, so close before. It had started with lingering glances, expressions with a little too much emotion to be had for your manservant, even for your best friend. Touches that happened far too frequently and easily for a platonic relationship. Right before the end, when Arthur had lost too much blood and couldn't think straight, acting on his base urges, they had been the closest. 

He knew he wasn't going to be saved. Knew he wasn't going home to Camelot and his knights and Guinevere. That was definitely upsetting, in a vague sort of detached way. He had spent his entire life training to be the best king for his people and it gutted him to think of never returning. He thought of all the wrongs he had done that could not be fixed. He thought of all the treaties to be signed and the laws to be written. He thought of Guinevere's sweet and loving smile that he could never return with the same level of emotion. Yet in his last days, all he could think of was Merlin. Merlin and his stupid neckerchiefs. Merlin and his hapless performance as a manservant. Merlin as the bravest and loyalist man he had ever met. Merlin who had more faith in Arthur than he had faith in himself. Merlin his rock. Merlin who had magic.

The logical part of Arthur's brain reminded him that no man was worth his tears, and that he should be thinking of his people and leaving plans for Guinevere to make the transition to monarch. The larger, more dominant part of Arthur's brain tells him it's out of his hands and it's time to be indulgent for once. So he spends the last few hours of his life thinking about Merlin.

It wasn't as if Arthur hadn't of suspected it. There had been far too many times he had overheard Merlin whispering strange words, or caught a flash of gold in his eyes. Hell, that last night in tavern they had locked gazes and Merlin still felt confident in helping his roll along. Arthur had just rolled his eyes and let Merlin empty his coin purse. What was he supposed to do? Out Merlin in front of the whole tavern? He wasn't hurting anyone with his stupid party tricks. Besides, Arthur hadn't had the heart to wipe the smile of Merlin's face. It hadn't been that blinding and carefree in a while.

No, the real shock had been discovering the extent of Merlin's magic. Never in Arthur's wildest dreams had he believed Merlin to be a sorcerer. Merlin dabbled in small enchantments, manipulating the outcome of drinking games, sometimes removing stains from Arthur's clothing. Merlin didn't use his magic to hurt people. Merlin was helpless. He needed protection. He needed _Arthur's_ protection, not the other way around.

Merlin telling Arthur he was the old man, the sorcerer who had smote legions of Saxons was the most heart-breaking moment of Arthur's life. Nothing had prepared him for the truth that Merlin was the sorcerer who had killed his father. Merlin, who had convinced him time and time again that magic was evil. Merlin, who, even when Arthur gave him an out had declared, 'there can be no place for magic in Camelot'. Merlin, who had sacrificed everything for Camelot and never asked for anything in return.

It wasn't that Arthur was scared of Merlin. He was scared of the idea that he really didn't know anything about the most important person in his life. The days that followed were less of a learning experience, but a re-learning experience. Arthur came to realise that he didn't need to throw the book on Merlin out the window, he just needed to re-write a few chapters. All the times it appeared Arthur had been blessed with dumb luck or felt there was someone watching over him, Merlin filled in the gaps. Merlin was still the same person Arthur had come to know over the past ten years, he just wasn't as helpless as Arthur had always assumed. Learning the extent of his magic hadn't distanced Merlin from Arthur; if anything it strengthened their bond. Arthur knew without a shadow of a doubt that Merlin shared his sense of responsibility. He knew what it felt like to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. To know that every decision had repercussions that would affect everyone. He could leave his kingdom safe in Merlin's hands. It endeared him to Arthur even more than he thought possible.

Somewhere along the journey, the senseless, irresponsible part of Arthur's brain gave in to his need to touch Merlin as much as possible. Arthur let himself hold Merlin's hand and rest his head on his shoulder as much as he wanted to. Part of Arthur hoped Merlin thought this was just because of the injury. The other part didn't care anymore if Merlin knew his feelings or not. This was the end and he wanted to make the most of it.

When Merlin stabbed Morgana, Arthur felt the dam break. Merlin had saved the kingdom, their kingdom, with one thrust of a sword. For all Merlin's strength and magic, it came down to a clumsy weapon. The amount of love Arthur felt for Merlin in that moment almost masked the pain from Mordred's blade. And Merlin didn't even stop to consider what he had just done. Arthur had seen the anger and regret on his face during the act, but as soon as Morgana stilled, Merlin was back beside him, checking his pulse and picking him up to keep going. He had just ended six years of war and his entire being was focused completely on Arthur.

As they crested the last hill, Arthur's feet gave out from under him and he fell to the ground. Merlin went with him and struggled to pull Arthur up. Arthur could feel his last bit of strength leaving him as the darkness crept into his vision. ' _Not yet,_ ' he thought, furiously fighting to stay awake. There was still something he needed to say. The words were there on the tip of his tongue. No more games. No more secrets. It was time for the truth. He opened his mouth. 

"Just, just hold me."


	6. Just the Beginning

It's a cold and drizzly day when Merlin first gets the idea. A year has passed since Arthur's death and though he makes frequent trips to the lake, nothing has happened since that day. The day a hand came out of the lake and caught Excalibur. It gets Merlin thinking: maybe he doesn't have to wait for Arthur's return. Maybe he can force destiny and bring Arthur back himself. The first thing Merlin tries is a sword. It's no Excalibur, but it is- _was_ , the one Arthur favoured during training and patrol missions.

"Alright, listen up prat. I know this isn't one of your strengths, but I need you to hear me. Someone told me once that you were my destiny, that our paths lay together. He had a lot to say on that topic. He also said that when Albion's need is greatest you'll rise again. Well, Albion is doing just fine. Gwen is a fair and just ruler and Leon and Percival have trained a powerful army. Magic is slowly returning to the kingdom and the people are prospering for it. But it's not all sunshine and daisies. Everyone has their good days and bad days. For me, they're mostly bad." He takes a few steps towards the edge of the lake and continues. 

"My life has revolved around you for years Arthur; practically since I stepped foot in the citadel. And that's fine, I wouldn’t have traded a second of it. But having my life be my own against after ten years isn't easy because I don't really know who I am on my own anymore. And I'm struggling with it." He smiles suddenly.

"If you were here right now, you'd tell me not to be such a girl and punch me in the arm. I'd give anything for that to be a reality. So this is me, trying to give you an incentive to come back. Because who else is going to punch me?" Merlin steps forward so that his toes are hanging over the lip of the ridge. He pulls his arm back as far as it will go and lobs the sword into the lake. He's struck with a sudden pang of sadness as he remembers the last time he did this. He watches the sword hit the surface and disappear, leaving nothing but ripples behind it. He waits for hours, starring at the spot and willing something to happen. Only when the last meager rays of light wane does he start the long walk home.

He still checks the lake regularly, but it's years before he tries throwing anything in again.

"Hello dollop head. Can you tell I'm trying to get a rise out of you with these names? Get it? A rise? Because I want you to rise? I know it's not funny but if I don't laugh about it then the pain of losing you hits all over again and I don't really fancy feeling hollow today. Anyways, I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but I'm hoping it might do the trick." He raises the Horn of Cathbhadh to his lips and blows. Nothing happens. Sighing, Merlin drops his hand and turns back to the lake.

"I guess I should have known that wouldn't work. It's used to call the spirits of the afterlife back to this realm, but you aren't really dead, are you? You're just being your usual lazy self and making everyone wait around for you. I guess you can keep this though, it's probably safer with you anyways." The horn tumbles through the air and hits the surface with a splash. He waits until dark again but beyond a few fish, there is no movement in the lake.

He waits longer and longer between his trips now. He's had nothing to do for the past forty years but study and he's tuned to the magic that runs through all of Albion. If Arthur returns, he's sure he'll know of it. But he thinks he might finally have something that will catch Arthur's attention. It's with a heavy heart that he makes the trek to the shore.

"Hello Arthur. I'm sorry I haven't been to visit for a while but I've been busy. Well, busy isn't the best word to describe it but it'll do. I went back to Camelot finally. I haven't lived there since, well, since you did. I tried my best but it was just too hard to even walk through the gate, let alone carry on with life there. I've protected the kingdom from the outside like I know you would have wanted, but I still feel like I've let you down. The…the reason I went back today was to answer a summons from the Queen. Her- last- summons. " The words stuck in his throat but he ploughed ahead. "I'm so sorry Arthur. She lived a long life and served the people til the very end. She wanted me there for two reasons. The first was to help her daughter Raina with the transition to monarch: you know, help her with the vows, swear in her court sorcerer and all that. But she also wanted me to give you this. I don't know how much Gaius told her before he died, but she knew I'd see you again without me saying anything. She said she hoped you'd be proud of how she'd ruled our kingdom. I told her you would be. She probably meant for me to give this to you in person but I have to take this chance. I have to take it because I'm selfish and now I'm truly alone in this world so please Arthur, please come back." He closes his eyes, gives the ring one last squeeze, and throws it into the lake. By the time he opens his eyes, the ripples have dispersed into nothing. He ignores the stinging behind his eyes and waits as the tears begin to roll down his cheeks. He gives it two hours before he leaves for home.

It's hundreds of years before he can bring himself to return to the lakeside. The world around it has changed completely but the lake remains the same. The Sidhe magic is as old as the world itself and protects the entrance to their kingdom from the outside world. Merlin only has one more object he can tempt Arthur with, and it takes all his strength to make the journey one last time.

"Alright Arthur, this is it. This is my last try at changing our destinies because if this doesn't bring you back I don't know what will. I don't even want to try it, because if it doesn't work then I lose the last part of you that I have. But the world needs you and I think I'm strong enough to be selfless one last time. The world- I don't even know where to begin. The world has gone to shit. The entire planet is at war, bombs are dropping from the sky, and I don't know how to stop it. I can only be in one place at a time and the kingdoms these days are so much bigger than they were back then. I know this must sound like rot to you but I thought, if there was ever a time for you to come back then this would be it. This is so much bigger than Albion, the whole world needs you." A bomb blast sounds in the distance and it's the last push Merlin needs. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the sigil.

"I need this to work Arthur. I don't know how I can go on waiting much longer. If there was ever a time to return, it's now." He lifts the sigil to his mouth and places a lingering kiss on its face. His tears flow freely as he flings it into the lake. It skips across the surface like a stone before sinking. Merlin turns his back and walks away. He doesn't plan on returning.

It's quite by accident that some seventy years later his job forces him to return to the spot. He's working as a city planner and he's sent to conduct soil samples on the site to see why every structure they've tried to build has crumbled almost instantly. He knows the answer of course, but he goes anyways, hoping to find and explanation he can write in his report other than 'magic'.

He crests the last hill and takes in the familiar yet foreign setting. Nothing ever changes here. Except- there's a box floating in the water, gently rutting against the shore. He drops his notebook and runs to the water's edge, his pulse quickening despite his mind urging him not to dare hope. With trembling hands, he lifts the box out of the water and pries off the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of pond weed, is the sword, the horn, and Gwen's ring. He feels an irrational stab of sadness that the sigil is missing, because he should be happy, he should be elated, this has to mean something. Before he can process what it could mean, someone clears their throat behind him.

"I believe this belongs to you."


	7. The Golden Age

There are some nights when Arthur is up late out of boredom and a fruitless but nagging sense of guilt. It's on one of these nights that he first hears Merlin crying in his sleep.

The first time it happens Arthur freezes, not knowing what to do. He doesn't know if Merlin is awake or even wants to be comforted because the last time he and Merlin had really talked about crying he'd told him 'no man is worth your tears' and really, what a load of rot that was because Arthur had shed countless tears over fallen comrades and Balinor had turned out to be Merlin's father so really Arthur had just put his foot in it with that one. Arthur stood in the dark in the sitting room, unmoving in case Merlin heard the floorboards creak and expected Arthur to do something. Arthur continued to panic silently in his head until the whimpers subsided and he felt safe enough to run as quietly as he could down the hall and shut his door. He tried to appease the part of his brain that was screaming ' _coward_ ' at him by promising himself that if it happened again he would do something about it.

The next night Arthur was up late, he braced himself to hear the crying again but nothing happened. He even went so far as to push open Merlin's bedroom door and look in to see an unconscious Merlin sprawled across the bed, drooling into his pillow. Rolling his eyes, Arthur went back to his book, content that the incident had been a one off.

It happened again three weeks later. Steeling himself, Arthur walked down the hall and knocked softly on Merlin's door. When the weeping continued with no acknowledgement, Arthur pushed the door open carefully and looked it. Merlin lay on his side, curled in on himself like he was in pain. His eyes were closed and, judging from the puddles that formed on the bridge of his nose, he had been crying for some time. It was only then that Arthur cottoned on to the idea that Merlin was very much asleep and unaware that he was making Arthur's heart constrict tightly with every whimper. 

This was not part of the plan. Option one was Merlin opened the door and the two of them sat down and muddled through whatever was going on, ending with Arthur fixing whatever the problem was. Option two, and the preferable option, was that Arthur knocked on the door and Merlin quieted down, Arthur giving him enough time to pretend to be properly asleep before checking on him and Merlin keeping all subsequent crying to a minimum.

Option three, watching Merlin bawl helplessly in his sleep, was not anything Arthur had planned for, so he did the logical thing which was to turn tail and hide out in his bedroom. Arthur had another fantastically involved argument with himself where the part of his brain that yelled ' _coward_ ' seemed to have brought some back-up with it and the small portion that he had mollified by agreeing to check on Merlin tutted at him, while his heart helped the process along by beating like a horse mid-charge.

The next day at breakfast Merlin, who was perfectly chipper for arse o'clock in the morning, had taken one look at Arthur before handing him the cup of coffee he had been raising to his lips and asked "what happened to you?" Arthur decided that the twenty-first century was completely unfair and had taken out his foul mood on various appliances before Merlin had thrown him out of the kitchen for melting the spatula to their best fry pan.

The third time it happened, Arthur had been asleep and in the middle of a very pleasant hunting dream when Merlin's cries roused him and god damn it Arthur was putting an end to this right now. He marched down the hall, flung the door open, and stomped into Merlin's room. His rage at being startled awake melted into an entirely different emotion when Arthur looked down and saw Merlin completely hunched in on himself, hands balled into fists on the side of his head, and full on sobbing. The warm, mushy feeling of fondness Arthur fought with on a daily basis was powerful enough in that moment to trigger a wave of panic and Arthur was about to resort to his old standby of 'run' when Merlin gasped.

"Arthur!"

An overwhelming sense of responsibility overpowered his desire to run because like hell he was going to be responsible for Merlin's unconscious breakdowns. So without really thinking it through, he sat down on the bed and pulled Merlin into his arms. Merlin's eyes flew open and he struggled against Arthur's grip.

"Arthur? What's going on?" Arthur's response was to grip him tighter and haul Merlin's upper body completely into his lap.

"No seriously, what's happening?" Merlin frowned and raised a hand to his cheek. "Why am I crying?"

"You were having a nightmare. I came to save you."

"Save me?" Merlin snorted. "What kind of nightmare could you possibl- oh. I've just remembered." He let the sentence hang between the two of them and Arthur could feel Merlin's breathing pick up speed.

"What was it about?" he asked softly.

Merlin smiled ruefully. "It's the same nightmare I've had for over a thousand years." His smile faltered and he fought to keep his mouth from turning down completely.

"It's alright, I'm here now," Arthur spoke softly. It was as if Arthur's acknowledgment that he knew perfectly well what Merlin was crying about broke the damn and Merlin's face contorted in pain, sobs starting again in full force. Arthur held him tightly to his chest, stroking his hair softly and rocking them back and force. He was surprised at how easy this was and mentally scolded the part of his brain that had urged him to flee so many times. After a few minutes, Merlin shifted up higher and hooked his arms around Arthur's neck, crying into his shoulder. Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin's back and buried his hands in his hair.

"I'm so sorry Merlin," he whispered into his neck, "I'm so sorry." Merlin shook his head at that but gave no other response.

Arthur wasn't sure how long they held each other like that but Merlin's sobs eventually subsided into noiseless tears and Arthur's overwhelming need to protect cooled off into a more manageable form which allowed for drowsiness to re-enter the picture. At some point when his lids started to droop, Arthur laid them down on Merlin's pillows, neither of them making any move to untangle their limbs except to pull the duvet up into place.

The next morning Arthur woke to an empty bed. Yawning, he made his way out to the kitchen to find a still warm cup of coffee and a note. ' _Sorry, work called me in early - some sort of minor scandal. It's your turn to pick for dinner. I'll be home by six - M_ '. Arthur found it entirely too endearing that Merlin signed his notes as if to prevent confusion that someone else might have written it. He was so distracted by the annoying fluttering that was happening in his chest that he almost missed the hastily scrawled ' _thanks for last night_ ' at the bottom of the note.

Arthur smiled and opened the drawer to pull out their takeaway menus. He most certainly did not pocket the note, and if the two of them woke up in a bed together even on nights when Merlin hadn't had a nightmare, neither of them treated it as anything other than ordinary.


End file.
